Storyteller: A Little Princess

“If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the star at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers.” – The Little Prince

Me with my beautiful, blooming rose :-)

She entered our room on the first day of classes, a shy and sweet little thing, with bright eyes and a lovely smile. She seemed quite proud of her purple Elsa dress - she held the edges of her skirt and swayed slightly. Her name was Princess, her yaya shared. I stepped forward to greet her, and to invite her to create a costume with the pieces of fabric we had laid out for the children’s use. She promptly burst into tears. We soon began the class. Her tears escalated into sobs, the sobs morphed into loud wails thus causing my co-teacher, Neil, to take her out for a breather. She no longer wished to return after that. And so ended our first day.

Princess arrived the next workshop day in a blue Elsa dress. She took a few, tentative steps from the door, looked around the room and the classmates that were calling her, and was quiet. I held my breath, waiting for her reaction. And yes, she burst into tears again. This time, however, and after much persuasion, she agrees to stay inside the room. And so ended day number two.

We achieve little milestones as the days go by – the wails eventually quiet down and she attends the class with tears silently streaming down her face, her little hand gripped in mine, trailing behind me as I lead the class through the different activities. The crying then stops and she starts watching her classmates with a curious smile. Eventually she agrees to join, and participates with a partner. Rehearsals begin and she slowly learns her part, refusing to speak if alone, but executing all her lines and dances with a classmate by her side. Then comes the day when her partner is absent and she surprises us by doing all her parts on her own. Her movements are small, her voice a wee whisper, but all the same, we know that these are huge, difficult steps for her. We are proud, hopeful, and excited.

On the day of the show, I sense something is different. She arrives early, and I see her take in the lights and set and our shadow theater frame, her eyes softly lighting up. She excitedly goes to me for makeup and is happy to have her picture taken. She then waits patiently for the show.

As the curtain rises on our version of the Little Prince, she is a different person. She is not the Princess who walked into our classroom weeks ago. She has transformed into her character, the beautiful but haughty rose. She dances with joy and grace, and speaks her lines with volume, energy, and emotion. Her eyes sparkle every time she comes out and she is having such a blast! I watch in amazement, my heart swelling with pride. Here is a young child who has realized her own power to communicate and tell stories. She is blazing like a bright star, her joy and light brimming and evident. She is changed – beautiful and confident and powerful, such a joy and wonder to behold. She is the substance of everything we work so hard to impart to our students: that all are unique, all have something to share, and all have the immense power to create. All they have to do is believe in themselves.

I am grateful for our small, intimate class set-up that allows us to hold the hands of our students and take them on a journey that is not too crowded or rushed, where they are free to grow in their own time. And just like the Little Prince who realizes that his Rose is different from all the roses he could ever meet in the universe because he himself has tended and cared for her, so do our students become special and distinguished to us Make Believe teachers. At the end of the summer, we know each one like the back of our hand because we have watered them, nurtured them, and tended to them. Each one is special, and each one is loved. And we are always breathless and amazed when over time, they come into their own…and just bloom. Just like my little rose this summer, sweet little Princess J